That very strange time when racism and bigotry very likely saved my life

I realize that is a very provocative title I've place there for this piece. Let me say up front that I have not lost my ever-loving mind and now am an advocate of racism. Ummm, no.

Let me explain...

Last evening I watched the film, The Normal Heart. The film, adapted from the play of the same name by Larry Kramer who was also the screenwriter for the film, chronicles the early days of the AIDS pandemic (1981 - 1984) and how it affected and impacted the lives of the gay male population, in the case of this particular film--gay men living in New York City. I had never seen the film before although I was deeply aware and conscious of the play it was adapted from.

Watching the film re-triggered a memory I have repressed off and on for many years.

When what we now know of as AIDS first hit the scene in the USA (1981) I was in the seminary studying for the Roman Catholic priesthood. I continued this study for the next several years, as AIDS began to ravage a community I was a member of. At that point in my preparation and study for the priesthood I was living a completely celibate life. Additionally, I continued my celibate practice for some time after I left my study for the priesthood. When I left, I initially moved back to my hometown and State, Lexington, Kentucky. I had come out to myself and to a very select group of friends, all of whom also ended up being gay, when I was sixteen years old, in that same place--Lexington, KY.

I returned to Kentucky in the very late 1980s. By the time I returned, AIDS was finally making its way into Kentucky, as it essentially began in the gay male communities on the coasts and slowly (and then more and more rapidly) began moving into the interior of the country.

When I returned to Kentucky I re-established many friendships I had with gay men who were friends the last time I had lived in Kentucky approximately eight to ten years earlier. Naturally, all of these men were very sexually active now. This was a time of very intense sexual liberation in the gay male community. The majority, though not all of these men were white.

I can remember various orgies that several of these white gay men friends attended where it was subtlely and sometimes not so subtlely implied that I was sort of, kind of not welcomed to attend because someone who was going to be involved was uncomfortable with a black guy being a part of the orgy.  Nothing was ever directed said to me. Often what would happen is that I would be at one of these guys homes laughing, joking, and having a great time and then suddenly things would get weird. People would get quiet, starting nervously looking at their clocks, and start making preparations to leave without ever precisely mentioning to me what was going on. I learned to simply take this as a cue that it was time for me to leave.

I'm not at all sure I would have wanted to participate in such a thing at that particular time in my sexual development anyway. I truly don't know. I wasn't a prude or anything. However, I was not nearly as free as I became some years later. I do however, definitely remember this really funky and awkward thing in my friendship with this particular set of white, gay, male friends in Kentucky. I never separated myself from these friends. We continued to hang out and be real friends. I was also much less sophisticated about racism then than I am now. Don't get me wrong, I knew that racism absolutely played a role in this funky thing regarding me never being invited to participate in these orgies. However, once again, I was not nearly as liberated about such things I as I became a few short years later, Often, these orgies included the presence of "really hunky" guys from out of town, often from much larger cities. It was always intimated that it was one of these out of towners who were opposed to my participation rather than one of my friends, although I don't remember that ever being explicitly expressed to me. And at any rate, my friends never objected, even if that were the case. It was a very awkward aspect of my friendship with this group of white, gay friends, which numbered approximately ten to twelve men. I had even gone to high school with a few of them. Many years later, practically on his death bed, one of these friends, one of these men admitted to me what I had always suspected, indeed had always known. It was both a relief and horrible at the same time.

Everyone single one of these men is now dead. Every single one.

I believe the last person died around 1994. I remained friends with every single one until his death. I attended the funerals and memorials of almost every single one. All died from complications related to AIDS. Every single one. I am absolutely positive that every single one of these men was infected by the same person--someone visiting from out of town who was a participant in one or more of those orgies, and maybe even one of the ones who specifically did not want a black man being a part of "the action." I know I'll never be able to prove that. And I'm fine with that.

This whole thing is just one of the many funky, strange, weird, outrageous elements of my life as a black, same gender loving men who is part of the generation and community that AIDS hit the hardest when it first came onto the American landscape. So many different emotions connected to so many of those episodes. So many different emotions...

THE BEST OF MOYO AFLAME 2011: Life and Death As a Socially Constructed Ballet Between Two Seemingly Opposing Ideologies

Rick Genest

This piece originally appeared on Moyo Aflame on September 29, 2011


I am not afraid to die. I am not even afraid to die a slow, painful and agonizing death though that would obviously not be my preference. I have been a serious meditator for over 20 years now. My root teacher is Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh. Many of us who have been significantly impacted by this beautiful man and his beautiful teachings call him "Thay" for short. Because of my decades long meditation and particularly my Zen practice, I am aware that even if I were to die a slow, agonizing and painful death, I would be able to summon the strength or whatever it was that needed to be summoned, to endure that in the best way a human being possibly could. I would likely also be able to find many things to be grateful for in the process as well. These are some of the things that are available for us to learn from a Zen Master who cut his zen teeth in the midst of one of the most violent wars the modern world has known. He honed his zen skills in the midst of the war the people of Vietnam refer to as, "The American War." We here in America erroneously or ignorantly refer to it as, "The Vietnam War."

Much of the focus of my activism of late has some connection to death. People cheering the hypothetical death of a hypothetical 30 year old uninsured man during one of the recent and infamous Republican debates. The execution of Troy Anthony Davis has come and gone. The one year anniversary of Tyler Clementi's death by suicide has come and gone. The recent suicide death of 14 year old Jayme Rodemeyer continues to sadden millions across the country and world. Meanwhile, the murders of numerous transwomen of color over the last several weeks, continues to be ignored by mainstream media and America. The continuous and ongoing genocide against the black man is also continuing in its all too familiar unchecked, uninterrupted and denied manner by the masses. All of these stories have a clear and obvious connection to death. What does it all mean?

It has occurred to me that much of the social justice activism that takes place in the world is really directed at protecting people from "unnecessary" or "unjust" death for as long as possible. We don't want innocent people to be killed in unjust, corporate and greed sponsored wars. We don't want people to die without adequate healthcare and insurance. These are deaths many believe could have been "prevented." Some of us decry and want to prevent the deaths of potentially innocent death row inmates, young kids coming to terms with their sexuality, transwomen living in large urban centers, homeless men sleeping on benches in deserted parks, children without enough food to eat, women living with their potentially deadly, overly aggressive and under matured husbands and boyfriends. Its all about life and death at the most reductionist level. Its about attempting to change the process and dynamics around who lives and who dies, around why, around who makes those decisions, and how they are made. Social justice activists often want to protect people from what may be viewed as an unjust or untimely death. Other people, lets call them corporate and governmental henchmen, want to hasten people's deaths and to make lots of money and acquire lots of power in the process. Is this what it all really boils down to? Some people want us to live? Other people want us to die? Is it all simply a socially constructed ballet between two seemingly opposing ideologies? Do you believe life and death is something that is only decided by some entity we may call a god of some sort? Is it all just part of some cosmic plan? Or do we humans have a substantial role to play in it all?

Our Global LBGT History: The First Recorded Death on 9/11 Was a Catholic Priest/Chaplain Who Also Happened to be Gay

Father Mychal Judge, OFM, May 11, 1933 - September 11, 2001

The body bag marked “Victim 0001″ on 11 September 2001 contained the corpse of Father Mychal Judge, a Catholic chaplain with the fire department of New York. When he heard about the disaster at the World Trade Centre, he donned his Catholic collar and firefighter garb and raced downtown.


His was the first recorded death from the attacks that morning. His life’s work should be central to the tenth anniversary commemorations of the 9/11 attacks: peace, tolerance and reconciliation.


Father Mychal was well known to the poor and afflicted of New York City and New Jersey. He helped the homeless, and people with HIV/Aids. As a member of the Franciscan order, he would often wear the traditional brown robe and sandals. But there was a half-known secret about him: he was gay. In his private diaries, the revered Catholic priest wrote, “I thought of my gay self and how the people I meet never get to know me fully.”


A very deep and sincere Hat tip to Terence Weldon at Queering the Church blog for the information included in this post. The original post may be found here.

Our Global LGBT History (Blog Series): Spotlight on Ahmet Yildiz

Ahmet Yildiz 1982 -2008

Ahmet Yildiz was an openly gay Turkish national and citizen living in Istanbul, Turkey at the time of his murder. He was murdered in 2008. He was 26 years old at the time of his death. There is considerable mystery, insinuation and uncertainty around the exact circumstances surrounding his death. What is known is that he was shot several times, fled from his assailant or assailants, was somehow able to get into his vehicle and drive a short distance before crashing his vehicle and subsequently dying a short time later at the hospital.

The prevailing theory is that Ahmet was a victim of what is called “honor killing.” An honor killing is one member of a biological family killing another member of the family or social group because of a belief that the victim has brought dishonor to the family or community. Traditionally, the vast majority of victims of honor killings have been girls and young women. In recent times however, they have extended to men as well.

Ahmets openly gay life made him the target of death threats which he received at least more than a couple of times. Despite this and the enormous pressure he faced to conceal his sexuality, he had the courage to stand his ground and remained open about it until his death.

It was apparently very well known that Ahmet's family, particularly his father, were very disturbed by his sexuality and especially his determination to be open about it. He had been vigorously pressured by his family to undergo psychotherapy designed to “correct” his sexuality though he consistently resisted such pressure. After his murder no one from his family came to claim his body. This is often true of victims of honor killing. His boyfriend who fled the country shortly after his murder was not allowed to claim his body. Ahmet's father reportedly fled to Iran after his son's murder. It is unknown if he has ever returned to Turkey.

LGBT people throughout the world, including The United States, continue to be at risk for similar fates as that suffered by Ahmet Yildiz. No one culture or country holds a monopoly on such actions. The exact technique and degree may differ from case to case. However, the end result is often the same.

May All Beings Be Free

Our Global LGBT History (Blog Series): Spotlight on David Kato

David "Kato" Kisule

February 13, 1964 – January 26, 2011

David Kato Kisule (February 13, 1964 – January 26, 2011) was a Ugandan teacher and LGBT activist. He is considered the father of Uganda's gay rights movement. He served as advocacy officer for Sexual Minorities Uganda (SMUG). Kato was murdered in January of 2011, shortly after winning a lawsuit against Rolling Stone magazine (a Ugandan weekly tabloid magazine not to be confused with the music magazine published in the USA) which had published his name and photograph identifying him as gay and calling for him to be executed.

Born to the Kisule clan in its ancestral village of Nakawala, Namataba Town Council, Mukono District, he received the name "Kato" because he was the younger of a pair of twins. He came out to his family members, namely his older twin brother John Malumba Wasswa, before he left to teach in Johannesburg, South Africa during its transition from apartheid to multiracial democracy, becoming influenced by the end of the apartheid-era ban on sodomy and the growth of LGBT rights there. Coming back to Uganda in 1998, he decided to come out in public through a press conference. He was promptly arrested and held in police custody for a week due to this action.

St. Herman Nkoni Boys Primary School was founded in 2002 in the Roman Catholic diocese of Masaka. Kato soon joined the faculty. He also became highly involved with the underground LGBT Rights Movement in Uganda, eventually becoming one of the founding members of SMUG in March of 2004.

According to a series of confidential cables later released by WikiLeaks, Kato spoke during a November 2009 United Nations-funded consultative conference on human rights. During the conference, Kato spoke on the issue of LGBT rights and the anti-LGBT atmosphere in Uganda, but members of the Uganda Human Rights Comission "openly joked and snickered" during the speech, and a rumor circulated that David Bahati MP, the leading proponent of the Uganda Anti-Homosexuality Bill, had ordered the Inspector General of Police to arrest Kato, causing Kato and other attending members of SMUG to leave the conference immediately after he finished the speech. Bahati then made a "tirade against homosexuality" to the conference, resulting in massive applause and Martin Ssempa, an Evangelical Christian cleric, pounding his fist on the table in agreement.

By 2010, he had quit his job as a school teacher in order to focus on his work with SMUG in light of the events surrounding the Uganda Anti-Homosexuality Bill.

Kato was among the 100 people whose names and photographs were published in October 2010 by the Ugandan tabloid newspaper Rolling Stone in an article which called for their execution as homosexuals. Kato and two other SMUG members who were also listed in the article — Kasha Jacqueline and Julian Patience "Pepe" Onziema — sued the newspaper to force it to stop publishing the names and pictures of people it believed to be gay or lesbian. The photos were published under a headline of "Hang them” and were accompanied by the individuals' addresses. The petition was granted on November 2, 2010, effectively ruling for the end of Rolling Stone. The High Court Justice ruled that Rolling Stone's publication of the lists, and the accompanying incitation to violence, threatened Kato's and the others' "fundamental rights and freedoms;" attacked their right to human dignity; and violated their constitutional right to privacy.The court ordered the newspaper to pay Kato and the other two plaintiffs 1.5 million Ugandan shillings each.

On January 26, 2011, while talking on the phone with SMUG member Julian Pepe Onziema, Kato was assaulted in his home in Bukusa, Mukono Town by at least one unknown male assailant who hit him twice in the head with a hammer before fleeing on foot; Kato later died en route to the hospital. Several of Kato's colleagues reported that Kato had spoken of an increase in threats and harassment since the court victory, and they believe that his sexual orientation and his activism were the motive for the murder. Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have both called for an in-depth and impartial investigation into the case, and for protection for gay activists. James Nsaba Buturo, the Ugandan Minister of State for Ethics and Integrity, is on record as having declared that "Homosexuals can forget about human rights".

Kato's funeral was held on January 28, 2011, in Nakawala. Present at the funeral were family, friends and co-activists, many of whom wore t-shirts bearing his photo in front and having rainbow flag colors inscribed onto the sleeves. However, the Christian preacher at the funeral preached against the gays and lesbians present, making comparisons to Sodom and Gomorrah, before the activists ran to the pulpit and grabbed the microphone from him, forcing him to retreat from the pulpit to Kato's father's house. An unidentified female activist angrily exclaimed "Who are you to judge others?" and villagers sided with the preacher as scuffles broke out during the proceedings. Villagers refused to bury Kato at his burial place; the task was then undertaken by his friends and co-workers, most of whom were gay. In place of the preacher who left the scene after the fighting, excommunicated Anglican Church of Uganda bishop Christopher Ssenyonjo officiated Kato's burial in the presence of friends and cameras.

The murder was decried by Human Rights Watch with senior Africa researcher Maria Burnett adding that "David Kato's death is a tragic loss to the human rights community." Amnesty International stated that it was "appalled by the shocking murder of David Kato," and called for a "credible and impartial investigation into his murder."Both also asked the Ugandan government to protect other gay rights activists.

President Barack Obama, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and the State Department, and the European Union also condemned the murder and urged Uganda authorities to investigate the crime and to speak out against homophobia and transphobia. "I am deeply saddened to learn of the murder," Obama said. "David showed tremendous courage in speaking out against hate. He was a powerful advocate for fairness and freedom."

Rowan Williams, the Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury, spoke on behalf of the Anglican Communion, "Such violence [as the death of David Kato] has been consistently condemned by the Anglican Communion worldwide. This event also makes it all the more urgent for the British Government to secure the safety of LGBT asylum seekers in the UK. This is a moment to take very serious stock and to address those attitudes of mind which endanger the lives of men and women belonging to sexual minorities."

For his newspaper's alleged role in the murder, Rolling Stone editor Giles Muhame stated "When we called for hanging of gay people, we meant ... after they have gone through the legal process ... I did not call for them to be killed in cold blood like he was." However, he stated, "I have no regrets about the story. We were just exposing people who were doing wrong."

In the Spring of 2011, Boston's American Repertory Theater and System of a Downs Serj Tankian dedicated their production of Prometheus Bound to Kato and seven other activists, stating in program notes that "by singing the story of Prometheus, the God who defied the tyrant Zeus by giving the human race both fire and art, this production hopes to give a voice to those currently being silenced or endangered by modern-day oppressors".

Additional Reading:

• Uganda Anti-Homosexuality Bill
• LGBT rights in Uganda

(NOTE: Information for this post was obtained from Wikipedia and other sources.)

Part of America Died Yesterday With President Obama's Presentation of His Long Form Birth Certificate. There Will Be Re-birth. But That Does Not Change The Death That Has Occurred. I Am In Deep Mourning For This Country.

Life and Death As One

 

You would know the secret of death.

But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?

The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.

For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;

And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.

Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.

Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

The Prophet 

Kahlil Gibran

1883 - 1931 

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In Memory of Peter Gomes 1942 - 2011

In memory of  

Peter Gomes

Harvard Minister, African American gay man, LGBT rights activist

May 22, 1942 - February 28, 2011

“Religious fundamentalism is dangerous because it cannot accept ambiguity and diversity and is therefore inherently intolerant. Such intolerance, in the name of virtue, is ruthless and uses political power to destroy what it cannot convert.”

~Peter Gomes

See the full obituary here in the New York Times 

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In Memory of David Kato

In Memory of David Kato, Ugandan Gay Activist. Murdered January 26, 2011

A Teaching on Control and Vulnerability

In the mid to late 90's I worked at a large urban hospice in the southeastern part of the United States. Ever since that experience I have often said that working at hospice changed my life forever. Much of the reason doing such work changed my life forever is because it is the strongest experience of my life that has affirmed to me the absolute power and beauty of the human spirit. And that is because while working at hospice I very frequently had the experience of coming into people's lives at one of the most difficult and challenging, if not the most difficult and challenging time in their lives---the death of a loved one-- and got to witness first hand the process of one's movement through that; the movement through grief to places of remarkable and astonishing healing.

Many of my stories--and I have many stories from my time at hospice--are stories that exemplify this power and beauty of the human spirit. Not all of them are however. Some of them are stories that could easily be labeled as tragic. Over the years I have come to realize that the main reasons those stories feel so tragic is because they are absolutely perfect examples of how none of us has any real control over our lives and how all of us are extremely vulnerable whether we want to admit it or not. I am going to share one of my most indelible hospice stories now. It is one of the stories of utter non-control and utter naked vulnerability.

My job title at the hospice was Grief and Bereavement Coordinator. My job was mostly though not limited to providing grief and bereavement counseling to people who had recently lost a loved one through death. Even though I had worked at hospice for a few years and had heard almost everything imaginable, nothing, I don't believe, could have prepared me for the story I was going to hear on the particular day I am about to share about.

On that fateful day an impeccably dressed young woman in her early to mid 30's who looked like she had just walked off of a glamorous Hollywood red carpet, walked into my office. Despite her beautiful outward appearance, it was also obvious she was in shock. I had seen that look many times during my work at hospice. It was not long before she told me she was there because of the recent death of her 5 year old son.

She was the wife of a surgeon. Her husband came from a line of three generations of surgeons--her husband, her father-in-law and her father-in-laws father who at this time was no longer living.

Her son had been born with a congenital heart defect. At birth he was given a very small window of time to live. I do not now remember exactly what that window was. As anyone reading this story can certainly imagine, having so many surgeons and physicians in one's immediate family was definitely a godsend for this little boy. From day one the entire family was absolutely dedicated to finding a way to circumvent this young infants death sentence. And they had the money, influence, professional knowledge, connections and wherewithal to back up that desire.

It was not long before the family was aware of every single physician anywhere in the entire world who was doing any type of research, no matter how far fetched, that could potentially and ultimately result in the saving of this young boys life.

Eventually they connected with a surgeon in Europe who had pioneered a technique that sounded like the one that could correct the child's congenital defect. After months of intense and arduous communication between the family and this surgeon's team, a surgery date was scheduled. The surgery was soon done. From all perspectives the surgery was deemed an absolute success by absolutely everyone involved. The young boy, who was quickly approaching 5 years of age, had to remain in Europe for a few months so that his recovery could be closely monitored. There was not one complication. The young boy became a celebrity of sorts in the country in which the surgery had taken place. The procedure he received was the very first procedure of its kind in the world--and he had survived and in fact was thriving.

The mother, still sitting in my office, at this point pulled out a manila envelope containing a thick bundle of newspaper articles from both the country where the surgery took place and from America hailing and celebrating the miraculous success of her sons surgery and his remarkable recovery.

Soon came the time for him to return to the States. He traveled back to America safely and without any complications. A few months after his return home was his 5th birthday. His parents planned an elaborate 5th birthday party for him. It was of course, going to be more than just a fifth birthday celebration. It was also going to be a welcome home party and a thank you party for his successful surgery and recovery. It was also going to be a party to celebrate the fact that in a very real way this young child's life had been given back to him, his family and to the world.

The day of the party arrived. I was told everything was done in grand style and that everything was perfect. Everyone was on cloud nine. The family could not have been happier. Their son could not have been happier.

At some point during the party the little boy was playing with several of his young friends. No one was apparently closely monitoring this. Why should they? He was in the safety of his home with his loving family.

The young boy continued to play with his friends. So much of his young life had consisted of family members, doctors and others monitoring every single second of his life. Finally on this day people allowed themselves to exhale. They still monitored him. He was still in recovery from a serious surgery. Still, everyone agreed there was now a reason to give a little bit of breathing room, no matter how slight. So within that breathing room came the ability to let the young boy gently play with his friends without constant supervision.

One of his friends threw the child a ball. He didn't catch it. It gained some velocity and rolled a little down a small hill. The young boy was in quick pursuit. The ball rolled some more. No one saw the ball roll down another small hill. No one noticed the seconds it took for the young boy to happily continue to pursue it. Everything happened so quickly. The ball rolled out into the street. And at that exact moment a large truck was rounding the corner on the same street. The driver had no time to react. The boy followed the ball into the street. Brakes squealed with that horrifying sound we all know. Usually it is just a false alarm. This time it wasn't. The boy ran into the street, was hit by the truck and was instantly killed. He was exactly five years old.

What was just moments earlier a day of unmatched familial and triumphant celebration of life, success and dreams coming true had instantly turned into a family's unspeakable and unbelievable nightmare of sudden and deep experience of  death, tragedy and absolute and complete despair. None of those words I just wrote of course can even come close to describing the reality of what the family members actually experienced as they rushed to the street and were met with to them was a scene of unbelievable horror.

I can count on one hand the number of times I have been rendered absolutely completely and totally speechless in this life. The moment the beautiful woman sitting across from me came to the end of her story, was a moment I came face to face with such a time. It seemed to last forever. It did last forever. How does one respond to such a story. I have no idea what my first words after hearing the conclusion of the story were. I can only guess I did not say something completely inappropriate and offensive because she came back for a second session.

If anyone, for the rest of my life happens to ask me if I have a story to share that illustrates both how we have no control in our lives and how we are constantly living in a world that constantly invites us to experience our vulnerability, this would be the story I would share. I have no other that meets that criterion so completely.

Every year some percentage of children around the world die before they reach the age of consent. A disproportionate amount of these children will be children who live in poverty and/or who have few or none of the basic needs in place that Abraham Maslow speakes of so fluently in his hierarchy of human needs. Some parents who know their children live neither in poverty nor without their basic needs being met can allow themselves to live under the false security that their children are somehow automatically exempt from becoming one of these statistics. They are deluding themselves.

If we do not freely knock on the door of vulnerability, it will knock on ours. The only thing we have control over is whether or not-- if we choose to wait for it to knock on our doors--  to answer the door or not. If we do not answer the door however, vulnerability will simply let itself in.

"Vulnerability is the birthplace of joy, of creativity, of belonging and of love."

~Brene Brown

Social Science Researcher on vulnerability, courage, authenticity and shame

© Raven/Sage Mahosadha

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Very few disagreements will retain their significance beyond the grave.

Very few disagreements will retain their significance beyond the grave. It means, we will not live this exact life again. Our bodies will die. Most do not know when. For some death will arrive suddenly with no warning. So we strive for peace with All Beings while alive, desiring to create as little suffering as possible, because, we will not live this exact life again...

Raven Mahosadha

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